i swear it almost rained. i swear it almost washed out the whole world. i swear i almost gave up.
i find space to heal in the margins, in quiet afternoons, and in hugs from people i love.
sorrow is on my tongue. i wonder if you can taste it.
i only write to distract my self from my own self-destructive behavior.
just because you are not mine, doesn’t mean i can’t wish you were.
i’ll pray to little orange bottles or stuffy waiting rooms if it meant you would just get better.
another valentine’s day without you is another year of melancholy.